


Winged

by In_Dreams



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Community: hp_creatures, Creature Fic, F/M, Post-Hogwarts, creature: dragon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-07-18 16:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16122371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_Dreams/pseuds/In_Dreams
Summary: Hermione is pursuing a research study on dragons in Romania when, one day, a particular dragon arrives at the sanctuary. Only it isn’t a dragon – it’s Draco Malfoy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:** 75  
>  **Pairing:** Draco/Hermione  
>  **Creature:** Dragon  
>  **Disclaimer:** This creation is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made, no copyright or trademark infringement, or offense is intended. All characters depicted in sexual situations are above the age of consent.  
>  **Notes:** Thank you to my wonderful pre-readers, K and L. I hope you enjoy!

" _Protego!_ " Draco exclaimed, waving his wand as he cast a shield charm against the sudden barrage of spells being fired in their direction. " _Stupefy_!"

His quarry cackled as the man flittered into the crowd of faceless onlookers in Diagon Alley and Draco cursed under his breath, lowering his wand. With a grimace he fell into formation with Thomas, the two of them parting the crowd as they kept on their adversary's tail.

The man snuffled as he ran, his hair long and scraggly, firing curses at will over his shoulder without a consideration for the dozens of civilians within range of his wand. People screamed and jumped out of the way. Draco pressed his lips into a thin line and hurried on, unable to gain a clear mark within the crowd.

" _Move_!" Thomas shouted, shoving past the lingering Saturday afternoon shoppers with Draco following in the path that cleared.

They had been attempting to track down the man – he was known only as The Warbler – for nearly two months now. And with him in their sights, Draco knew neither he nor Dean Thomas were willing to return to the DMLE empty-handed.

The man was a notorious criminal, involved in everything from organized crime and creature smuggling rings, to the invention and usage of illegal spells and potions, and petty theft of apothecary ingredients. He had even once impersonated an Auror via Polyjuice just so he could break into the DMLE and steal a cake someone had brought in for a retirement party.

He had no MO – and he was certifiably insane.

The Warbler tittered again, sliding between two buildings as if he were a snake. Draco wouldn't have been surprised if unregistered animagus was also on his criminal repertoire.

Draco ducked as an unrecognizable flash of neon yellow light flew past, crashing into the stone wall behind him and shattering it.

Thomas cursed foully as he and Draco fired tandem stunners, both colliding into the next building and missing the man as he ducked away. The Warbler cackled again, turning back to cast them both a wide grin.

"Thomas!" Draco shouted, as the man turned on his partner. " _Protego_!"

The Warbler slipped between two more buildings, the crumbling stone falling to the ground in pieces as it was disturbed.

Draco crept forward as he approached the open street once more, wand held aloft, Thomas by his side. With a nod they swept forward in position, each scanning the street as they advanced.

Draco turned, his eyes widening as he met his quarry's twinkling gaze.

The last he remembered was a violent flash of white light.

* * *

Hermione Granger looked up at a soft tap on the open door frame of her office, allowing the warm summer air inside. She smiled, setting her quill down. "Charlie. How are you doing?"

Charlie Weasley offered a sort of noncommittal shrug, his blue eyes sparkling. "That's going to depend on what you say when I ask you a question."

Hermione snickered, shaking her head. Not a day went by at the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary where something bizarre  _didn't_  happen. "What's the question?"

"I need you to take a look at something," Charlie said, his smile faltering for a brief moment. "It's… in the acquisition cells."

"The cells," Hermione repeated, frowning. They rarely had cause to collect a dragon into the cells unless it was ill, injured, or newly admitted. None of which boded well for the stack of research that sat before her. "Is something wrong with a dragon?"

"Yes and no," Charlie said, and she huffed at his ambiguity. "Just come, would you?"

Rolling her eyes in mild irritation, Hermione rose from her desk and followed him from the office. It was a brilliant day, she supposed, and it would do her well to get some fresh air away from the confines of her office in the research annex of the dragon sanctuary.

The dragon keepers like Charlie spent most of their time outside in the greater sanctuary, and it was noticeable in their tanned – and scarred – skin. But Hermione, even after almost a year in Romania, still mostly retained her pale London skin.

Her eyes widened as they approached the acquisition cells, and she turned to Charlie with a suspicious, unnerved glance. A dragon she had never seen before – she didn't even recognize the breed – was thrashing about, chained to a stake that Hermione knew to be magical in its strength.

It was majestic and lithe, its pale silver scales shimmering. But its eyes were vicious.

It huffed a breath through its large, flared nostrils, smoke and fire flying at the handlers attempting to approach it.

"Is that an Antipodean Opaleye?" Hermione asked, cringing as it snorted again, and the handlers cast a series of shielding spells.

"From a distance it looks like it," Charlie said with a shrug. "But upon closer investigation, it isn't. And here's the real issue, and why we need your help – it isn't a dragon after all."

"What do you mean, it isn't a dragon?" she scoffed. "As I stand here, that's a dragon."

"It  _looks_  like a dragon," he corrected, waving a hand. "But it's an Auror; he was caught in a spell that turned him  _into_  this."

"An Auror!" Hermione exclaimed with horror. "No wonder he's so bloody irritable, you've got him chained up!" She paused, fear creeping into her bones at the thought that it might have been one of her friends. "Who's the Auror?"

Charlie grimaced, glancing sidelong at her. "It's Draco Malfoy."

The blood in her veins froze – her breathing escalated, her eyes fixed on his for any hint that he wasn't being serious. She hadn't seen Draco Malfoy since eighth year – since shortly before she had left England.

" _Draco Malfoy_  is an Auror?" she asked, raising a skeptical brow. "I half expected that prat to end up in Azkaban."

"He is," Charlie confirmed with a nod. "And Mum says he was top of the training class Harry and Ron were in. Didn't they ever mention that?"

"No." Hermione snorted, but she wasn't surprised. She wouldn't have expected either of them to admit Malfoy had outperformed them in Auror training. "So  _why_  is he a dragon, then?"

"According to Dean Thomas, his partner, they were chasing down some madman through Diagon Alley and Malfoy was hit with a spell that turned him into  _this_  in the middle of a Saturday afternoon."

Hermione cringed at the visual image – Diagon Alley had never seen such excitement, she was sure. She glanced around, her gaze skirting over the massive dragon that was her former classmate. "Is Dean Thomas here as well?"

"No," Charlie said, shaking his head. "Up to his neck in paperwork, apparently. Especially since the baddie got away in the chaos that ensued. Took eight Aurors just to transport Malfoy here. You'd think the bugger would have listened to reason."

Hermione wanted to agree – but she knew if she had been turned into a dragon she might have panicked too. But that didn't explain why he wasn't cooperating now. She wondered how affected he was by the predispositions of the dragon he had become.

"So we need your help," Charlie said, shrugging again. "Dragons we can handle; dragons we know. But this? They couldn't reverse the spell so he's here. This is strange magic, and no one here is an expert in that."

"Neither am I," she reminded him, even as she understood why she had been summoned. She was the one here researching the magical qualities of dragons and the differences among breeds – the brains in a sea of brawn, as it were.

Hermione fixed her eyes once more on the dragon, who had laid down and was refusing to move, his narrowed eyes glaring at his handlers.

"Unchain him," she found herself breathing. Against her better judgement and her screaming instincts, she took a step toward the acquisition cells. Charlie followed, one scarred hand slipping into the pocket of his trousers and drawing his wand.

The handlers glanced at her in surprise as she repeated the request, raising a brow. "Would  _you_  like to be chained up like some wild beast?"

With a chorus of sheepish grumbling, the handlers released the magical chains that held him, moving out of range of the dragon's ire.

His large, cold grey eyes turned to face her in response to his changed circumstances – and if Hermione didn't know better, she would have thought he blinked in recognition.

"Malfoy," Hermione said, holding a hand out as if it could do anything to protect her, should he decide to burn her to a crisp. "Can you understand me? Are you in there?"

She thought she saw the dragon's lip curl into a sneer.

She felt the corners of her mouth tug upwards, even as she released a sigh. "Malfoy, we'll leave you unchained if you stop throwing fire."

The dragon huffed, its head dropping into its large, scaled feet, complete with razor sharp claws long enough to pull Hermione's innards from her body in one swipe.

She swallowed, pushing the imagery to the back of her mind. She took another step closer and the dragon's heavily lidded grey eyes followed her movements. Even after a year in the sanctuary, she hadn't been this close to a dragon.

Not since the one in Gringotts, of course. But it felt different to be so close to one when it wasn't a life or death situation.

"I'm going to try and figure out what happened to you," Hermione said, aware of the dragon's breath as she closed the gap between them. "For the time being, I'm going to convince them to let you go into the sanctuary, but I'll have to cast a tracking spell on you in case I need you to return here, okay?"

The dragon simply stared, unimpressed. He huffed a smoky breath through his nose.

"It's a lot better out there than here!" Hermione exclaimed, indignant. "And if you won't cooperate, I'm more than willing to return to my  _actual_  work!"

He scoffed a sound of irritation from within his throat, and then gave her a sort of jerky nod. She cast the tracking spell, watching as his large silver form lit up with a pale blue glow.

"Go and explore, then," Hermione muttered. "But if you feel a tug at your wingtips I need you to return to the research annex." She waved a hand in the general direction. "It's over there."

The pale dragon stared at her for another long moment, then bared its fangs and took off to the skies with an impressive and powerful wingspan. After a short, tense moment, he was gone.

Hermione turned to Charlie as he came back alongside her. "Do you think it was wise to let him go like that?"

"No less wise than keeping him chained up," Hermione said quietly. "Unless he gets in a fight with the other dragons out there, he'll prefer it to being trapped here." She turned to Charlie, worrying her lower lip. "I don't even know where to begin with him, but I'll trust you to keep an eye on him out in the sanctuary?"

"Right," he responded with a grimace. "I'll watch his tracking from a distance in case anything happens. Thanks, Hermione. And good luck."

Hermione nodded as Charlie collected his broom from a hook on the wall of the cells and took off after the dragon.

She grumbled to herself, as Malfoy became no more than a distant white spot on the horizon, "I'm going to need it."

* * *

Hermione stared at the stack of research waiting for her with a huff and set it aside. She was certainly not a specialist in magic or spell reversal; she was only here to research the different types of dragons held in the sanctuary, and the magical properties of each breed.

But she supposed until they could contact a specialist she would have to take on the task. The thought of  _Malfoy_  being turned into a dragon was baffling. And to see him trapped in the cells, chained up and surrounded by handlers, had caused an uneasy jolt in Hermione's stomach.

She tapped her quill on the desk before drafting a quick missive to Dean Thomas to floo her or visit the sanctuary whenever he was able. She hoped he would be able to provide her with more information regarding the situation than Charlie had done, given Dean had been present when Malfoy had been struck with the spell.

As she watched the owl fly out of the reserve, she frowned.

Draco Malfoy had been a pest in her life since she had been eleven years old. Hermione had no particular proclivity to assist him aside from the fact that she was a decent person and was doing her best to move on from the occurrences of the war.

She recalled seeing him during their eighth year – it had been a condition of his acquittal that he complete his NEWTs – and he had been nothing but scowls and silence through the duration of the year. It had been a disarming shift from the cruel, loathsome youth she had known for the previous seven years. The other condition was that he seek gainful employment and contribute to society – evidently Malfoy had taken that to the extreme and sought an aurorship.

Hermione debated sending Harry an owl to inquire about that but she didn't want to share too much of the situation yet.

She sent another of the sanctuary's owls to a spell reversal specialist, detailing the situation and how she had somehow been tasked with figuring out a solution.

While she waited on the return of the owls, Hermione drew a book from her shelf on strange cases of magic and dragons, but found nothing of any significance. She also couldn't find any spell in which one could transform a human into a magical species at will outside of basic transfiguration.

The second owl returned first, carrying a response from the specialist. The short letter suggested she simply locate the counter-curse, as that would save her a world of trouble in spell reversal techniques. But should that not be possible, he would arrange to visit the sanctuary the following week.

Releasing a long breath, Hermione set the letter aside, determining she would most likely need to arrange the appointment. If the spell had been invented and cast by a mad criminal who had evaded capture, she didn't imagine it would be easy to get the counter-spell.

There was a whoosh and the fireplace in her office flared to life with a flash of green, as Dean's head appeared in the fire.

"Hermione," he said, his brow furrowed with surprise as his face stared up at her.

"Dean," Hermione replied, turning a chair around to face the fire and sinking into it. "Thanks for getting back to me so quickly. I was hoping you could answer some questions about the situation with Malfoy."

For a moment she felt bad for Dean, and wondered how he had ended up with Malfoy as a partner.

Dean cast a furtive glance behind him. "I need to get away from this paperwork for a bit. Mind if I come through?"

"Not at all," Hermione said with a brief shake of her head.

She moved the chair aside as he came through the Floo a moment later, brushing ash from his sleeves. He grinned and Hermione returned the smile despite the situation.

"I didn't even know this was where you'd gone to," he said. "Harry and Ron only said you left England after eighth year."

"Right," Hermione said, forcing a smile. "They didn't exactly understand why I left. But I've been here since. Good on you for passing your Auror training."

"Thanks," Dean said, grinning back. He glanced around her office for a moment before settling his gaze on her. "Malfoy is here?"

"He's been released into the sanctuary for the time being," Hermione explained. "I've got Charlie Weasley keeping an eye on him so he doesn't get into trouble with the other dragons. I was hoping you'd be able to tell me a bit more about what happened."

"Right," Dean said, pressing his palms together. "It all happened fast, to be honest. We were after The Warbler – caught him out in the open in Diagon and we initiated a chase – and he turned on us coming around the corner, and blasted Malfoy with the spell. The instant he turned into a dragon it was chaos, and The Warbler escaped."

"That's it?" she asked, frowning. That was as much as Charlie had told her. "Nothing about the spell? The easiest way to revert him to human form is with a counter-spell."

"We didn't have one or we would have done it," he replied, shaking his head. "The Warbler is notorious for making up his own spells, and this wasn't a simple transfiguration. Without the counter, we couldn't do anything to contain him and decided to bring him here for the time being. I wish I could tell you more."

Hermione jotted a quick note on a sheet of parchment. "Have you got any other leads on this Warbler?"

"Malfoy and I have been pursuing him for months," Dean said, scratching the back of his neck. "And with him out of commission it'll be just me, unless I can convince Robards to assign someone else to the case with me.  _If_  we can catch him, we can get the counter-spell out of him."

"Okay," she said with a sigh. "Keep me posted, will you?"

"Absolutely," he nodded. "Do you mind – is there a way I can see him before I go?"

She blinked, attempting to school the surprise from her face. "You want to talk to him?"

"Well, yeah," he muttered. "He is my partner, you know?"

"Right, of course," Hermione said, feeling flustered. "I guess I just thought –"

"You thought I'd been stuck with him against my will," Dean said with a chuckle at the guilt on her face. "That  _is_  how it felt at first. But Hermione – he's not like he was before the war, you know? We get on now. For the most part."

Hermione frowned as his words sunk in. She offered him a tight smile. "Of course, I'll cast the summoning charm."

She led Dean outside of the research annex while they waited for Malfoy to fly back from wherever in the sanctuary he had ended up. The sheer size of the sanctuary had astounded Hermione upon arriving, including the number of different biomes which made up the expansive magical area. But once she had learned how many dragons called the sanctuary home, it had made sense.

The annex was raised in the air – one of a series of linked buildings – and looked out upon the greater sanctuary to the east. Even now, the view left Hermione breathless.

Finally the large silver wingspan of Malfoy's dragon form came into view on the horizon and Dean released a sharp breath beside her. Malfoy settled on a tree even in height with the outer deck of the research annex, his grey eyes narrowed as they fixed on Hermione.

But then his gaze shifted to Dean beside her, and his expression changed – his reptilian eyes widened and the irritation dissolved at once.

Malfoy reached out a scaled and clawed foreleg; Hermione watched in surprise as Dean made a fist and bumped it against one long, vicious claw. Dean's brow was furrowed, his lips pursed.

"Alright, then?" he asked in a low voice. Malfoy snuffled and it sounded somehow like a cross between boredom and frustration. Dean shrugged. "I know, I'm trying to track him down again."

A soft growl emanated from Malfoy's throat and Dean rolled his eyes. "You'll have to be patient – I know it's a tall ask." Then Dean snickered, his gaze flickering to Hermione. "Don't give Hermione too much trouble. At least she's willing to help you, yeah?"

Malfoy's begrudging gaze settled on Hermione again, and she felt a shiver creep down the length of her spine.

"How can you understand him?" she asked under her breath. Malfoy snorted smoke.

"I just know him," Dean said, rolling his eyes. "He'll be anxious as hell to get back to work."

"We don't have the counter-spell," Hermione felt obliged to mention, then turned to Malfoy. "For the time being, if you need anything, you can come here and I'll try to understand."

Malfoy's head swung to the side to face out into the sanctuary again. He waved one clawed foot into the distance and then turned back to face Hermione, bringing the claw to his wicked fangs.

"Food?" Hermione asked. Malfoy nodded his head. "You can't find anything to eat out in the sanctuary?"

Hermione didn't realize a dragon could roll its eyes. Dean chuckled beside her.

"I imagine  _raw rodent_  isn't suitable for a Malfoy dragon," Dean explained. Malfoy nodded again.

"It won't negatively affect your system as a dragon," Hermione explained. "Your body should be able to digest anything you find in the sanctuary perfectly well. And you  _are_  fully capable of cooking your food if that's bothering you."

Malfoy huffed a long aggravated sigh, smoke flaring from his throat as he rolled his eyes at Dean again.

"He would like a steak, Hermione," Dean said, and the dragon huffed a laugh.

"A steak," Hermione repeated, her eyes narrowing. Malfoy's large grey ones held hers. "Fine. I'll cook you a bloody steak."

Malfoy clawed at a dead branch on the tree upon which he was perched, his eyes widening. Hermione pressed her lips together, shaking her head. Dean tilted his head, his gaze fixed on the silver dragon.

"I don't know what he's saying," Dean admitted. "But I would wager he'd like a full meal while you're cooking for him."

"I'm not his private chef," Hermione grit through her teeth. Malfoy huffed another breath, holding up three curved claws. "Oh, no," she shook her head. "I am not cooking three meals a day for you."

Malfoy rolled his eyes again, turning a baleful expression on Dean.

Dean shrugged, his brows knitted. "Don't look at me, I'm not coming here three times a day to feed you."

Malfoy ruffled his wings behind him then cast Hermione a pointed gaze as he lifted a foot, inspecting the claws. Dean snickered beside her and her brow furrowed.

Her eyes narrowed as she scowled at the large dragon before her, his face a mask of haughty boredom.

"I will cook  _one_  steak for you,  _once_. Then you will have to fend for yourself in the sanctuary," she hissed.

Malfoy released a noise of disgust from his throat; Hermione felt a well of irritation collecting in her chest and she didn't know whether she preferred him as a picky, entitled dragon, or an angry, fire-throwing one.

She folded her arms across her chest, casting a sidelong glare at Dean. "You're welcome to stay here with him if you like.  _Apparently_  I have a steak to prepare."

Malfoy clawed at the branch as Hermione turned to leave and she threw a hard stare over her shoulder. She would have sworn she saw the dragon smirk as she turned to leave.

* * *

When Hermione returned to the deck of the research annex half an hour later with the largest steak she could find – complete with chips and a salad – Dean was sitting on the ledge, his feet hanging over and arms resting on the railing, chuckling while Malfoy remained perched atop his tree.

Hermione scowled as she approached and set the plate down on the edge where Malfoy could reach it.

His head dropped, his large nostrils flaring as he sniffed her offerings.

Hermione rolled her eyes, snapping, "Just eat it!"

Malfoy fixed her with a hard stare, stabbed the steak with one long claw and tossed the entire thing into the air, catching it with a snap of his fangs. Then he picked up the plate with his forelegs, balancing it between unsteady claws and snuffled it with his snout, cleaning the plate.

He attempted to return the plate to the deck of the annex and ended up dropping it, the ceramic shattering on the ledge. Hermione vanished the mess with a wave of her wand.

Malfoy turned his expectant gaze on her, flexing his claws.

"That's all I made for you," Hermione said, frowning. "It isn't my fault you ate it so quickly."

Malfoy rolled his head backwards, releasing a long, irritated breath. Dean chuckled, rising to his feet.

"As much fun as this is," he said, snickering, "I really ought to get back and try to track down The Warbler so we can get the counter-spell. If this goes on too long one of you might end up killing the other."

"I'll keep looking into alternate solutions for the time being," Hermione said with a grimace, not liking the odds of Dean catching The Warbler in a timely fashion on his own before Malfoy drove her crazy.

"Good idea," Dean said, raising his fist to the dragon again. Malfoy tapped against it with the curve of his claw, as they had done upon greeting one another. Hermione shook her head at the easy camaraderie between them.

While she appreciated Dean acting as a buffer between her and Malfoy, she would have preferred not to have to deal with the entitled pureblood in dragon form at all.

Malfoy flared his wings and swept off into the sky with a last look at the two of them.

"Well, that was interesting," Hermione muttered as she led Dean back to her office. He grinned and followed.

"Thanks, Hermione," Dean said, "let me know if he's causing you too much trouble."

"I'm sure he will," she assured him. "Thanks, and good luck."

With a nod, Dean stepped through the Floo and was gone. Hermione sunk back into the seat at her desk, rubbing at her temple where a headache had begun to creep in.

_What_  had she gotten herself into?

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

Hermione glanced up, catching sight of something in her peripheral vision, and nearly leapt from her seat. A large grey eye was blinking at her through the window of her office in the research annex.

She froze in her seat, hands splayed across the desk as the quill fell from her loose grip.

Malfoy's large, scaled face was staring at her – she hadn't realized a dragon could look so unimpressed.

Huffing, Hermione turned back to her work. There was more than enough food for him to find in the sanctuary, and if he truly thought she was going to cook him three meals a day like a house-elf –

She jumped at a loud tap, and looked up again to see a wicked claw pressed against her window. If it weren't for the fact that all the buildings within the sanctuary were reinforced by magic, she might have suspected he would be able to break the glass.

She stormed to the window and threw it open, glaring up at him as his large snout neared her face.

His claws reached through the open frame, and Hermione took a hasty step back.

"There is plenty of food for you to eat in the sanctuary, Malfoy!" she exclaimed, leveling him with a scowl. "The more you bother me, the less time I spend trying to find a fix for your situation!"

In all reality, her best bet would be to wait for the spell reversal specialist to arrive the following week. Or for Dean to catch the man who had cast the spell in the first place. Malfoy would have to survive without gourmet cooking until then.

He huffed a smoky breath from within his throat and blinked down at her, his face coming into alignment with the open window. Hermione folded her arms, resolute.

Malfoy's chin dropped and his head tilted to the side; his scaled brow furrowed and he blinked at her again, his eyes large and sad. He released a broken whimper.

"Really, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, one brow raised, even as she chuckled despite herself. He did a good puppy dog impression. "Those sad eyes aren't going to work on me."

With an exaggerated huff, Malfoy flung his head backwards, tossing himself off the deck from where he was perched high above the sanctuary floor.

On instinct, Hermione rushed to the window, peering out to see him in a freefall, his wings tucked and body limp. A sharp intake of breath escaped her lips, even as his wings opened with a flourish as he was about to plummet into the ground. Far below, she watched as he skulked away across the ground on all fours, his wings dragging and shoulders slumped.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione returned to her desk. She hadn't taken Malfoy to be  _such_  a drama queen.

* * *

The living quarters of the dragon sanctuary were housed in a building similar to the research annex, some distance away, and connected by a reinforced and magically protected bridge. The quarters contained dorms, common areas, and a kitchen for the researchers and handlers who chose to live at the sanctuary.

Hermione prepared her evening meal and was about to settle in her dorm with a good book when a thought niggled at her.

If she had been turned into a dragon, and thrown into such a strange and volatile environment as the depths of the sanctuary, she would have felt out of sorts too. Maybe a simple home comfort wouldn't be entirely amiss.

Cursing herself and knowing where it would lead, Hermione placed two raw steaks on a plate and carried it back to the ledge of the research annex.

Malfoy could have his damn steak – but she  _wasn't_  going to cook it for him, when he had his own built-in stove.

Then Hermione returned across the bridge to her own dorm and settled in for the night.

The following morning when she arrived at the deck of the research annex, she was met with an empty plate, and a crudely carved happy face etched into the wood.

* * *

Two days later Hermione walked out of her office to see Malfoy perched on the deck of the research annex, and before she could roll her eyes and walk back inside, she noticed Dean Thomas sitting on the ledge, explaining something with hand gestures.

Malfoy guffawed, his wings flaring behind him.

Hermione settled a plate with a few pieces of raw chicken some distance away and took a seat beside Dean.

It had been easier, she reasoned, to simply offer Malfoy food a couple times a day, and if he was still hungry he could learn to hunt for himself. But since she didn't anticipate him being there that long, maybe it was a futile effort.

Malfoy eyed the plate of chicken and snuffled at her – Hermione presumed it to be gratitude and decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. With a gentle breath of fire, he cooked the chicken black and ate it. Hermione wondered if it was burnt to a crisp.

"Any news?" she asked, bringing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around herself. It was a long drop to the ground and she had never been great with heights.

"I spent yesterday following a lead that went nowhere," Dean said with a frown. "But I have it on good authority he's still in England, and I'll be back at it this afternoon. Anything on your end?"

"The spell reversal specialist is coming on Monday," Hermione offered, and Malfoy's large gaze swivelled to assess her. "Hopefully he can get Malfoy out."

"Good," Dean said, nodding. "We'll have better luck catching The Warbler if it's the two of us." He gestured to the plate of food. "I see he hasn't learned to hunt on his own?"

"He refuses," Hermione said, with a furtive glance at Malfoy, who grumbled.

"Ironic, isn't it?" Dean asked, looking thoughtful. "That your name is Draco, and you've been turned into an actual dragon."

Malfoy rolled his eyes but released something that might have been a snicker.

"Do you think this Warbler knew?" Hermione asked, chewing her tongue. "Maybe it was his idea of a joke."

Dean's gaze flickered to settle on Malfoy's, and something unspoken seemed to pass between the two Aurors. Hermione's brow furrowed as the silence stretched on.

Finally Dean sighed with a bit of a shrug. "We can't presume to understand what goes on in The Warbler's mind. He's been behind almost every major incident of organized crime since the end of the war, but he's madder than a bloody hatter."

Malfoy cocked his head at the Muggle reference and Hermione exchanged a quick glance with Dean.

"Although," Dean continued, "it's an interesting consideration to keep in mind."

"Maybe he knew you were the ones tracking him," Hermione supplied, unnerved as Malfoy's grey reptilian eyes bore into hers. Feeling a flush creep to her cheeks, she turned to face Dean again. "Watch out for yourself."

"I will," Dean said with a chuckle. "I suspect if something happened to me before I figured out how to return Malfoy to human form he would bring me back just to kill me himself."

Hermione snickered, even as she caught her lower lip between her teeth.

"And on that note, I'd better return to the DMLE before Robards realizes I'm gone," Dean said with a grin, offering his clenched fist to Malfoy's long claw. "I'll see myself out. Later, Hermione. Malfoy."

With that Dean rose from his spot on the ledge and made his way to the entrance of the dragon sanctuary. Hermione turned to Malfoy, still perched on the ledge, eyeing her with a stoic gaze. He ruffled his wings but didn't fly off.

Folding her legs beneath her, she asked, "How are you finding the sanctuary?"

To her surprise, Malfoy nodded his approval. Although it had been nearly a week since he had arrived and his only issue had been with regards to the food. Maybe he truly  _was_  enjoying the depths of the wilderness which comprised the largest dragon sanctuary in the world.

"I haven't even seen the entire thing yet," Hermione admitted, gazing into the distance. "The handlers have told me about the different climates and regions, for different types of dragons, of course. I imagine it's very beautiful."

Malfoy snuffled and clawed at the deck. He nodded his head and quirked a brow. Then with a pointed look, he unfurled his wings.

Of course he didn't care to listen to her wax on about the place in which he was essentially trapped. She stood, expecting him to take off into the sky. But he simply stared at her, dropping one wing to the deck in her direction.

Hermione's eyes widened in comprehension and she shook her head, taking a step away. Malfoy huffed, rolling his eyes, but lowered his body to the deck.

His gaze seemed to say,  _I know you've done this before_.

"No, thank you," Hermione responded, folding her arms across her front. "You carry on, though."

With a sort of amused snort, and an action faster than she could follow in the moment, Malfoy speared a long claw through the hood of her jumper and swung her over his wing and onto his back.

Hermione screamed, the sudden action taking her off guard, but before she could scramble he was rising into the air, powerful wingstrokes flapping and Hermione found herself clinging to his back, the scales surprisingly soft.

"Put me down!" she exclaimed, panic rising as derision in her veins. The thought of falling from this height raced through her mind, and her hands gripped his scales, white-knuckled, even as he snickered and rose higher.

Malfoy's head swung to look at her, her breathing heavy and eyes wide, and he blinked at her. His head tilted, one grey eye meeting hers and her brow furrowed at something reassuring in his gaze.

He shifted in the air and Hermione clenched her jaw but readjusted her grip.

Without warning, Malfoy spread his wings wide and dropped into a dive; Hermione felt a scream choke and die in her throat and she dropped her head low to the surface of his back.

The gentle, rhythmic flow of his wings as he steadied off infused her with a sense of ease, and when she forced herself to look up and watch in case he was about to drop her, the next breath she took caught in a different way.

A forest stretched out, endless, before her, and Hermione's eyes widened as she took it in. The trees in this part of the sanctuary grew thick and lush, patches of foliage visible through the tall, verdant canopy.

In the distance, as Malfoy carried on, the trees grew and changed, and the air grew moist with humidity as the biome of the reserve shifted. Through the gaps in the trees Hermione could see animals roaming far below.

A royal blue dragon whose breed she didn't recognize soared by, its wings spread as it vaulted past, and it turned a large, narrowed eye on Malfoy before carrying on. It tucked its wings and dropped into a spiral toward the ground; Hermione laughed and she could have sworn the dragon wore a grin as it fell.

Without entirely realizing it, Hermione shifted to a seated position atop Malfoy's back, and a belated thought occurred to her that nothing held her in place if he decided to throw her off or drop into a spin himself.

The jungle spread on before them, the air growing warmer and heavier as Malfoy carried on. His head swung back to face her, his large grey eyes blinking before refocusing on the sky ahead of him.

Less gradual than the entrance to the jungle biome came a barren, mountainous region, high grey cliffs and crags spread out as far as Hermione could see. Dragons played in the distance, chasing one another around, while others hunted and soared high through the air.

Malfoy carried on, dipping between mountains and rising up on the breeze, back into the air.

Despite herself and her general terror of such heights, Hermione grinned as he flew, even as her eyes leaked with moisture while the wind whipped past.

There was an ocean scattered with beaches and islands, and breeds Hermione had never seen outside of books were swimming and flying and feeding on reeds and rushes.

In fact, she only recognized a handful of the dragons and realized how extensive the sanctuary truly was. She didn't think he had even shown her half of it.

Winding rivers, deserts, and canyons stretched far below them – Malfoy flew on until he reached a tall limestone cliff, settling himself on the outcrop and ruffling his wings.

Taking his cue, Hermione climbed from his back onto the stone, stretching her legs and shoulders – it felt strange to stand on solid ground once more, and she tried to calculate how long she had been exploring with Malfoy.

He settled onto his haunches, and cast Hermione a pointed gaze as she came up alongside him.

"It's wonderful out here, isn't it?" she asked, her gaze flickering to him.

He didn't respond but simply turned to face the other way from the cliff upon which he had stopped. The sun was setting over the sanctuary, its brilliant rays of orange and red casting a vibrant light as far as Hermione could see. A breath caught in her throat and her eyes stung at the beauty of it.

"Thank you," Hermione sighed. The thought occurred to her that it wouldn't be so terrible to be a dragon out here.

Malfoy huffed a soft grumble beside her as he settled down, resting his face on his scaled forelegs, his eyes fixed on the sunset ahead of them.

Hermione settled to the ground beside him, folding her legs beneath her. "I wouldn't have pegged you for the  _watching-the-sunset_  type."

His brow furrowed, unimpressed, as he turned to stare at her. As if deciding he didn't care to mime his thoughts, he turned back, his large eyes blinking shut for a long moment.

Hermione realized he was basking in the last remnants of the sun like a cat. She snickered, shaking her head as she dropped her hands to the rough stone behind her.

She didn't know how long she sat there with her unlikely company, but as the last of the sun's light had set and dusk fell into the sky, Hermione turned to Malfoy. He gave a wide yawn as his eyes fluttered open.

"Were you planning on flying me back?" she asked, worrying her lip. "I'll give you a steak if you do."

Malfoy rolled his eyes, but shifted so she could climb atop his back again. He trekked to the top of the ledge some distance away, then cast a pointed glance behind him to meet her eyes.

His gaze flickered to her hands, and Hermione gripped harder to his scales on instinct.

Without any further warning, Malfoy leapt from the cliff, his silver wingspan wide as he fell into a steep dive. Hermione screamed, feeling the cool night breeze tear past her, and she clung to his body until he levelled off, tears streaming from her eyes at the speed.

Hermione pounded his back with a fist in frustration as he carried on flying and he huffed a smoky laugh. Cursing under her breath, she wished now she had simply Apparated back to the research annex and left him to sleep on his rock.

But he settled off, and Hermione readjusted to a seated position as the moon lit up the dark sky.

And there was a sort of peace to it that she wouldn't have expected – a peace on Malfoy's reptilian face as he glanced back to check on her. Or maybe he was hoping she had fallen off.

When he returned her to the ledge of the research annex, his grey eyes fixed on hers. He perched on the deck and waited until Hermione returned with a plate of raw steaks.

Malfoy gazed at her for a moment before offering her a nod.

"Thanks, for taking me with you," Hermione said and found she meant it. The experience of seeing the sanctuary from that perspective wasn't one she would forget anytime soon.

She could have sworn he gave her a smirk.

Then he speared the steaks with a long, curved claw, and flew off into the forest.

* * *

It was two days before Hermione saw Malfoy again. Dean had checked in, but his update had been less than fruitful. The Warbler was as elusive as ever, and Dean had lost the trail again.

Hermione hadn't been in a rush to inform Malfoy – and the spell reversal specialist had owled to reschedule his visit, citing a family emergency.

She had left food out for him and it had vanished, but she hadn't seen his great silver form since the day he had flown her through the sanctuary.

So when she walked out of the research annex to see him perched on the ledge, she had nearly jumped in fright. His large grey eyes caught hers, but he made no move and Hermione simply stared at him.

Malfoy gestured with a sharp jerk of his face into the sanctuary, in the opposite direction of the one in which he had taken her before.

Hermione blinked, her brow furrowed. "You want me to come with you again?"

He stared at her.

"I have work to do."

His eyes rolled.

"Fine," Hermione said, "but only for a short while."

Malfoy huffed but settled his body to the deck, and she climbed on, feeling more comfortable on his back than she had the time before, despite the death-defying dive he had taken her into.

With a glance behind him, he rose into the air and took off with great, powerful beats of his wings. He flew in the direction he had indicated and Hermione gazed out as he flew over a grassy plain, the air warm and vegetation growing sparse.

There was a series of small ponds as the grassland fed into a meadow, and a breath caught in Hermione's throat.

Malfoy settled down on a hill next to a pond, and Hermione dismounted from his back.

"This is stunning," she whispered, "did you just find this?"

With a nod, Malfoy settled into the grass beside the pond. There was a small beach of sandy clay and Hermione sat down, dipping her fingers into the pool. The water was warm.

His gaze fixed on her and he traced an idle DM into the clay with a claw.

"Don't tell me you go swimming here," Hermione said with a snicker. Malfoy shrugged his shoulders and rolled onto his side in the grass, eyeing her. "I'm not swimming, I haven't got a suit."

Malfoy snickered, spreading his wings out around him, his eyes fluttering shut.

Hermione slipped off her shoes and socks and rolled up her jeans, dipping her feet into the water.

He snorted and when she turned back to him, he was watching her through one eye, making that expression that Hermione suspected was meant to be a smirk.

Before she could comprehend what he was about to do, he reached out with a clawed leg and pushed her into the small pool. Malfoy guffawed as she broke the surface, gasping in anger and surprise.

Pressing her lips into a thin line, Hermione hoisted herself out of the pool, her jeans and jumper soaked through. She threw her wand down on the bank, glaring at the dragon as he chuckled and rolled in the grass, clutching his stomach in a mockery of laughter.

"That wasn't funny!" Hermione hissed, tugging her jumper over her head and wringing the water from it.

Malfoy's grey eyes landed on the thin top she wore beneath her jumper and she realized too late it was soaked as well, her bra clearly visible through the drenched fabric. She exclaimed, "Filthy dragon!"

He snickered and rolled onto his stomach, reaching one clawed foot out to scratch something into the loose clay. Hermione stared in disbelief once he had finished, baffled to see he had drawn a crude winking face.

Huffing again, she turned away from him, clutching her wet jumper to her front. She walked some distance away, settling down on a large, flat rock, and clutched her knees to her chest, frowning. Hermione was of half a mind to simply Apparate away.

In her periphery she caught sight of Malfoy's glimmering silver scales, and she turned a stern gaze on him. His large grey eyes blinked at her, like they did when he wanted food.

He lifted a foot, two claws held out, and between them, a small, pale blue flower.

Hermione's brows shot up in surprise and she hesitantly took the flower from his claws. He swiped the claw near her hair and Hermione nearly recoiled until his claw snagged in one of her curls, tangled from the fly out.

Hermione sucked her teeth as she loosened his claw and he settled down on the large rock beside her, basking in the sun. She tucked the flower into her hair as he had inferred, and his gaze flickered to see once she was done.

"Thank you," she clipped, and he huffed a breath through his snout, eyes fluttering again.

The ire flowed out of her and Hermione leaned back on her elbows, imagining it would be a nice place to have a nap. She looked at Malfoy beside her, his face peaceful.

"It must be sort of nice," she said, her voice soft. "Being out here."

A grey eye cracked open. He released a sound of contentment.

"Is it strange that I wish you could talk?" Hermione carried on, shaking her head at herself. "Of course it's strange. We don't get along."

Malfoy turned to look at her, his chin resting on the flat expanse of the rock. His brow furrowed as he blinked at her.

"Sometimes," Hermione confessed, looking away from him, "I wonder if we might have, if we hadn't grown up on opposite sides of a brewing war. You seem to be close enough with Dean, and he's Muggle-born as well." She shrugged, forcing a casual smile. "You always seemed to be the only one nearly as studious as I was in school."

She cast Malfoy a sidelong glance, almost instantly wishing she hadn't said so much, but he was staring at her in a way that unnerved her. His brow was furrowed, his grey eyes upturned, and Hermione could see, deep within them, a sort of melancholy sadness.

"It doesn't matter now," Hermione said, shaking her head. "But for what it's worth, Malfoy, I'm sorry for the things you went through during the war. What I've heard, anyway. I know most of what you did wasn't your choice. I think it's really admirable that you chose to become an Auror."

Malfoy snuffled, his face moving closer to hers. His clawed foreleg shifted and pressed against her hand where it rested on the rock. Hermione gave him a wry smile as his claws curled around her wrist.

His face dropped near her hair, before resting on the rock again.

She breathed, "Thanks, Malfoy."

From the slump to his shoulders, Hermione suspected he knew how deep and convoluted the sentiment was, as it hung between them.

* * *

They fell into an unspoken pattern.

Once Hermione was done her research for the day, she would make her way to the kitchen in the living quarters and prepare a plate of raw meat, before returning to the deck of the research annex.

Malfoy would swoop in shortly after, inspecting her offerings for the day, although they both knew he would take whatever she gave him. With a quick breath, he would cook the food to its desired doneness and swallow it back in a handful of bites.

Then he would settle on the deck and allow Hermione to climb atop his back. They would explore the vast nature of the sanctuary, venturing into different biomes. Sometimes he would stop somewhere that caught his interest, or if Hermione gave him a nudge to the back.

Some days they returned to the pond in the meadow, and if they were close enough when the sun began to set, Malfoy would fly them to the limestone cliffs.

They visited the beaches of the ocean, swept deep into the rainforest, and one day Hermione brought a large bag of water and they trekked through the desert.

Hermione talked while he listened, and he expressed himself through gestures and rolled eyes. He made her smile and laugh, and if she didn't know better, she would have forgotten he was Draco Malfoy.

Often, other dragons glanced their way but simply carried on with whatever they had been doing before.

If she was a dragon, Hermione had decided, this was where she wanted to live. She suspected Malfoy felt the same way, because he didn't usually care to listen to her updates from Dean.

She wondered if maybe this was exactly what his soul needed.

* * *

One evening, they were nearing the limestone cliffs, Malfoy's favourite perch from which to watch the sunset, when the sky filled with angry, dark clouds. Within minutes, the clouds opened up and released a heavy downpour, thunder rumbling and lightning flashing near enough for Hermione to duck and clutch his back tighter.

Malfoy landed on a lower cliff, tucking them in beneath the protection of the mountains above.

Hermione caught his gaze and he clawed at her pocket where she kept her wand.

"I can't Apparate you with me!" she exclaimed over the roaring of the wind. A bright strike of lightning flashed, lighting up the silver of his scaled face.

He nudged her pocket again, shoving her away from him.

Hermione shook her head, pressing herself against the cliff again. "I'm not leaving you alone! If you try to fly anywhere you could get struck!"

Malfoy released a growl, turning away from her.

Firing him a scowl, Hermione dropped to the hard ground, pulling her hood over her hair. The cliffs protected them from the bulk of the storm, but if it shifted they would be right in the line of the thunder and lightning.

Malfoy tugged at her wrist with a clawed foreleg, and dragged her towards a shallow cave Hermione had never seen before. It was barely deep enough for his body and he had to curl up inside to fit. He dropped to the floor, pulling her along with him.

Hermione rolled onto her side, meeting the urgency in his large, grey eyes. She felt a shiver creep through her thin jumper in the rain and the cold, damp air. Malfoy blinked and draped a large, membranous wing on top of her, covering her from her neck to her trainers.

Hermione's brow knitted as she stared at him, and he tugged her closer still, until she could feel the heat emanating from his body.

"Thank you," she whispered, feeling the chill in her bones seep away.

Her eyes fluttered shut and Malfoy relaxed with a huff, his own sliding shut, and despite the raging storm outside, Hermione felt sleep claim her within moments.

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

"Charlie?" Hermione asked as she spotted the redhead walk past the open door of her office. He glanced up, walking through.

Hermione blinked. Charlie looked especially bedraggled, his clothing torn and singed as he slathered thick paste to a fresh burn on one arm.

"Is everything alright?" she asked, rising from her seat to inspect the burn.

"Fine," he said with a sigh. "There was a territorial dispute between two Hebridean Blacks, then one of them went on a rampage and it took us two hours to subdue her."

"Are the dragons okay?" Hermione asked, her eyes widening. "Are they injured?"

"The Hebrideans are both fine," Charlie returned, inspecting the glossy skin where he had been burnt. "But there were a few other dragons caught in the crossfire. We've just finished bringing them in for medical treatment. We're thankful there were no casualties, that we've seen."

"Good," Hermione nodded, a breath of relief escaping her chest. "You haven't seen Malfoy at all today, have you?"

He thought for a moment and then shook his head.

Hermione pressed her lips into a tight smile. "Thanks, Charlie."

It wasn't unusual for his visits to be sparse, given the sheer size of the sanctuary, but the food she had put out for him that morning had still yet to be taken, and it was nearly the time when she would deliver his evening plate.

"He usually keeps to his own, Hermione," Charlie said, hesitating. "I've checked on him a handful of times and he hasn't caused any trouble with the others. I'm sure he's fine."

"Right," she said, shaking her head at her paranoia. "Of course. I'm sure I'd lose track of time if I was out in the sanctuary all the time, too."

Except that, since he had started taking her flying and they had come to a sort of unspoken agreement, his arrivals had been like clockwork.

"It  _is_  massive, Hermione." Charlie gave her a roguish grin. "I'd better get back and lend a hand, yeah?"

"Of course," Hermione said, nodding. "See you later."

She returned to her desk, lingering overlong in the event that Malfoy still showed up for their daily fly together.

She and Dean had agreed that the best course of action would be to wait for the reversal specialist, or for Dean to catch The Warbler and get the counter-spell out of him. So after a few days of dead ends in her own search for results, Hermione had returned to her own research on the magical properties of dragons.

After another hour had passed, Hermione glanced out the window, hopeful Malfoy had simply taken the food and left. She considered casting the summoning charm but didn't want to bother him if he was exploring.

Maybe he had finally learned to hunt on his own, after all.

But he hadn't been by at all since the evening before. Not that they were friends, but they seemed to have developed an understanding between them. Hermione was even starting to comprehend some of his draconic expressions.

It was as if the animosity of their shared past had seeped away through the hours of flying and lounging by the pond, and watching the sunsets from his cliff.

Perhaps she was being hopeful, and he hadn't even realized he had missed their non-appointment.

But she couldn't shake the niggle in the back of her mind that something wasn't right. Charlie would have mentioned if Malfoy was one of the injured dragons they had brought in, but maybe something else had happened.

Hermione decided to cast the tracking spell that would lure him in, but he didn't arrive.

By the time she locked up her office and returned to the living quarters, the nervous feeling had settled as an uncomfortable roiling in the pit of her stomach. She was convinced Malfoy would have come in for his evening meal at least.

Slipping a jacket on, Hermione left the living quarters and Apparated out into the sanctuary.

* * *

She hadn't seen any sight of him at the first three spots she tried – places he had taken her on occasion, or where they had spent time together.

Hermione Apparated to the pond in the meadow where he had forced her into an unceremonious swim and basked on the large, flat rock beside her. A smile flitted across her lips at the memory.

She searched the immediate area, casting a  _revelio_ , and came up with nothing.

At the pond, however, she halted and her heart stuttered. Her brow furrowed as she took a closer step, kneeling down.

In the sandy clay where he had carved his initials with a curved claw that day, he had added hers as well.

_DM_

_HG_

Hermione didn't know what that meant, but she felt a shiver pass through her as a chill breeze began to pick up, folding her arms across her front as she stood.

The sun was beginning to set and her next destination was confirmed.

She Apparated to the limestone cliffs, the last place she could think of that he might have gone. She half expected to see him perched on the edge, his wings tucked against his back, his eyelids fluttering in the fading light of the sun.

But he was nowhere to be seen.

"Malfoy?" she called, gazing around as he cast another revealing spell, but to no avail.

Frowning, Hermione settled on the cliff, illuminated with a golden tinge.

"Malfoy!" she yelled again, despite knowing he wasn't there. "If you're  _hiding_  and think it's funny –"

She huffed a breath, cutting herself off with a shake of her head. She rose to her feet again, dusting off the seat of her jeans. Maybe he was just having a rough day and didn't  _want_  to be found.

He would come around the next day when he was hungry enough, she was sure.

With one last glance around, Hermione prepared to Disapparate back to the living quarters of the sanctuary, her own stomach growling with the need for food, when she heard a quiet, distant sound.

Her head spun, waiting to hear it again.

She was about to dismiss it as a trick of the wind when it sounded again – a sort of whimper.

Hermione hurried in the direction of the sound and her heart leapt into her throat at the sight of a large silver mass sprawled on the ground. His shimmery scales were burnt in places, and one of his wings looked broken and torn; dragon's blood had pooled on the stone beneath him.

"No," she breathed, dropping to the ground beside him. He cracked open one large grey eye and released a groan, reaching a clawed leg towards her. She shook her head, her heart racing as she assessed his injuries. "I only know some basic healing spells. Were you attacked?"

Malfoy lifted his head, just barely off the ground and dropped it again.

"You're going to be okay," Hermione whispered, even as she felt how faint his magical aura was. She moved to where his wing looked the most damaged, casting a rudimentary healing spell over the torn membranes.

He growled – a half-hearted sound – and Hermione glared at him. "You're fine. I need to do this."

Malfoy grumbled and settled down again, though she could see the tightness of his eyes as they squeezed shut. She finished the spell, but it was evident it wouldn't be enough to fully repair the injury. She tried not to look at the blood all around him.

"I'm going to need to go back to the complex and get some of the handlers, alright? They'll know how to bring you in and how to fix this wing," Hermione said, the words tumbling from her mouth in her urgency.

Malfoy snarled again, his eyes snapping open only to narrow at her. His claws dug into her wrist, breaking the skin and Hermione winced.

"Malfoy, let me go!" she exclaimed, blood pounding in her ears. "I'll be back soon, okay?"

But he held on still, his claws loosening only enough for the pain in his grip to subside. Hermione huffed, feeling anxiety race through her heart. He  _needed_ help.

His claws released a little more, and Hermione feared he had lost too much blood and had no strength left. Releasing a sharp breath, Hermione dug her wand out with her free hand and sent a Patronus to Charlie.

One of Malfoy's grey eyes cracked open as the luminous white otter twirled through the darkening sky and danced away in the direction of the complex; he glanced at her and his face collapsed back to the limestone.

Hermione sunk down beside him, pressing herself against his side in reassurance.

She could only hope Charlie would be quick.

* * *

Hermione worried her lower lip as she watched three handlers inspect Malfoy's wing and prepare him to be transported to the healing annex of the sanctuary, where the other dragons injured earlier had been located.

His eyes remained shut, as if he was fading, and Hermione was hesitant to watch, even while she couldn't look away.

"Good thing you found him when you did," Charlie said with a grimace as he came alongside her. The other two handlers were loading Malfoy into a large, sturdy sling attached to their brooms. "He's lost a lot of blood."

"Is he going to be okay?" Hermione asked, dreading the answer.

"If the dragon healers can stitch up that wing; it's halfway detached." He shrugged. "I should've kept a closer eye on him, but he's been doing so well on his own."

"I know," Hermione breathed. He had seemed more relaxed by the day, the tension from his arrival having all but vanished.

"Strange we didn't find him earlier," Charlie said, shaking his head. "We thought we'd tracked them all down. Malfoy must have limped away to these cliffs after being attacked but was unable to make it any further."

Hermione pressed her lips together, unable to formulate a response.

The two other dragon handlers rose into the air, Malfoy in the sling between them, a listless silver mass. Hermione watched until she couldn't see them anymore, and with a glance at Charlie, she Disapparated to the healing annex.

* * *

Although she knew it had nothing to do with her, Hermione couldn't help but feel as if it was her fault that Malfoy had been attacked. Perhaps if she had checked on him earlier instead of waiting…

She slipped out of the healing room while the dragon healers cast spell after spell, pouring potions into the injury on his wing, smearing his burns with paste. Malfoy had been knocked out with a mixture of concoctions, and Hermione couldn't watch any longer, retiring to the common area to wait.

The depth of her own concern for him had been surprising, and if not for the fact that they had formed a strange almost-friendship, she wouldn't have known what to make of it.

But then the way he had drawn her initials into the sand alongside his own drifted back to the forefront of her mind, and she began pacing the common area again, her fingers clutching her elbows as her arms crossed her chest.

Dean Thomas rushed into the common area, his eyes wide as they caught hers.

"Hermione!" he exclaimed. "I've just heard from Robards. Is he alright?"

"They're healing him now," Hermione said, her voice quiet. "He's been knocked out. He was attacked by a rogue dragon, and it isn't pretty."

Dean cursed under his breath. "What's going to happen to him?"

"We don't know yet." Her voice sounded oddly disconnected.

"Dammit!" Dean exclaimed, running a hand through his short hair. "I was going to come by tomorrow morning because we've had a breakthrough with The Warbler."

Hermione's heart froze before doubling in rhythm. "What sort of breakthrough?"

"You know your spell reversal specialist who keeps  _rescheduling_  your appointments?" Dean arched a brow, gesturing with one hand. "He's been under one of The Warbler's spells this whole time. He arrived at the DMLE this afternoon, dazed and unaware of anything that's gone on."

"No!" Hermione gasped, blinking several times.

"Yes," Dean nodded. "Apparently he came across your letters and was able to escape the influence of the spell.  _And_  he has a way of reaching The Warbler, who won't know that the specialist is no longer under his control."

"So you'll be able to release Malfoy from the spell."

While it was good news for Malfoy, Hermione couldn't stop the twinge in her stomach at the thought that he would be leaving the sanctuary.

"Hopefully," Dean said with a shrug. "The specialist thinks he should be able to figure it out, but that it'll still be easier if we have the counter-spell. But we're already initiating a plan to lure The Warbler in."

"Fantastic news," Hermione breathed. "Provided…"

She trailed off, unable to voice the words.

"Provided he pulls through," he finished, his voice gruff. She nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Can we see him?"

Hermione glanced at Dean, and with a sigh, led him through the living quarters and across the bridge into the healing annex of the sanctuary. It was more like an auditorium than an operating room, with its high, vaulted ceilings, and the dragon healers danced around Malfoy as they continued their work with potions and spells.

Dean grimaced, casting Hermione a sidelong look. She shrugged, her gaze fixed on Malfoy's heavy eyelids, willing him to look at her, to roll those large, grey eyes, to which she had grown so accustomed.

"He isn't out of hot water yet," one of the healers said, approaching the pair of them. His expression was grim. "It'll be a long night."

Dean released a heavy breath, scratching the back of his neck.

"There are visitors' rooms," Hermione said, "if you wanted to stay and see him in the morning."

Her tone came out with more conviction than she felt.

"Thanks, yeah," Dean said with a nod. "I'd like to be here."

It was a somber walk as Hermione led Dean to a room in the living quarters and then retired to her own. She laid in bed, knowing something had changed, and she would be unlikely to find much sleep while he was in that healing chamber.

* * *

Dean was already up when Hermione peeled herself from her bed the following morning, staring into an untouched mug of black coffee at a table in the common area, his expression vacant and eyes bloodshot. Hermione didn't suspect she looked any better.

"Any news?" she asked, settling into a seat across the table from him.

Dean shook his head, a brief twitch. "Not yet."

Hermione warmed up a mug of water with her wand, lacking the energy to brew a proper pot of tea, and dropped a tea bag into it, sipping her drink absently as they waited.

Some time later a healer entered the common area, his eyes bright and expression stoic as he approached the two of them sitting a silent vigil.

"It was touch and go for a while, but he's outside," the healer said. "On the ground. He won't be able to fly for a few days until the wing is healed through. We nearly had to take it off."

Hermione exchanged a glance of relief with Dean, even as her lips twitched at the thought of Malfoy sulking because he had to let the wing properly heal.

"Thank you," Hermione said, offering the healer a tight smile. "We really appreciate your efforts."

With a sharp nod, the healer took his leave.

Dean followed Hermione onto the deck of the living quarters and the two of them looked down through the canopy to the forest floor, where they could make out Malfoy's silver form, skulking around on all fours, his shoulders slumped.

"He's moping," Dean said with a hint of a smile.

Hermione snickered, despite the exhilarating rush of relief she felt.

* * *

Her eyes were fixed on the scarred tissue of his wing, the shimmery burns on his scales. When she glanced up, his gaze was fixed on her.

Dean was explaining the situation, how they would be making a play to catch The Warbler within the next few days, and how the specialist would finally visit the sanctuary to inspect the magic that had turned Malfoy into a dragon.

He grunted and settled down on the ground, his wings sprawled at awkward angles to his body, rather than folded in as usual.

Hermione took a seat in the dirt beside him, her legs crossed; he was still staring at her, even as Dean continued speaking.

Malfoy snuffled his understanding, his eyes flickering to Dean for a moment.

Then Dean announced he had to return to the Ministry, and made his way to the exit of the sanctuary.

Malfoy's grey eyes on her felt unnerving, and Hermione raised her brows, averting her gaze. Malfoy shifted closer, dropping his chin to rest on her knee. His eyes fluttered shut.

"Are you still feeling poorly?" Hermione asked, staring into the distant horizon of the canopy from her vantage point on the ground.

He huffed a breath that could have been a yes or a no.

She wanted to ask why he had drawn her initials into the sand beneath his. She wanted to suggest he would be excited to leave the sanctuary and return to his job as an Auror. She wondered if he would ever come to visit her. She didn't know why she was afraid he would say no.

Hermione wanted to understand the deep, insistent throb in her chest. It was Draco Malfoy. He was a  _dragon_. But why had her heart nearly stopped when she had seen him lying there in a pool of his own blood?

She dropped a hesitant hand to rest on the top of his scaled head, her fingers catching the back of his ear. His shoulders relaxed, a low growl escaping his throat.

She decided not to say anything at all.

* * *

Hermione peered through the window of the common area down at the ground, searching when she didn't find Malfoy's silver form.

"Was Malfoy released back into the sanctuary?" Hermione asked, her brows knitting as she turned to Charlie.

He blinked, one eye twitching. "The Aurors came for him this morning, didn't you hear?"

"What?" she whispered, clenching the table with a white-knuckled grip. "He left?"

"They caught the guy responsible for turning Malfoy into a dragon." Charlie shook his head. "I don't want to know what they did to him, but they got the counter-spell."

"Was Dean here?" Hermione asked, attempting to keep her breathing steady.

"Nah," he said, tearing off part of a dinner roll with his teeth. "Too much paperwork, apparently. Same with Malfoy. He asked to see you before he left but he had to be properly discharged and give a statement, and – you know. All  _that_."

"Right, of course," Hermione said, forcing a smile. "Wonderful news, isn't it?"

"Sure it is." Charlie's expression was hesitant. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I know the two of you had become close."

"It was nothing." She waved a nonchalant hand, even as her heart raced a desperate cadence against the interior of her chest. "He took me out flying a few times. I think he was just lonely out there by himself."

Charlie stared at her for a moment before returning to his bowl of soup. "Right." He shrugged. "At any rate, he's only an international Floo away."

Hermione shook her head. "I wouldn't think to bother him."

He eyed her again, his blue eyes thoughtful. So alike, yet different from Ron's. "He might like to be bothered, Hermione."

She pressed her lips into a thin line, to keep from releasing a long breath of disappointment.

"I'm just glad everything worked out."

* * *

A week had passed since Malfoy had been released from his dragon form and returned to London.

A week of overthinking the way those large grey eyes had stared at her. A week of wondering at his motivations in taking her flying. A week of staring at her own initials, carved into the sand by a wicked claw.

A week of debating with herself – and convincing herself – that she had somehow misunderstood the entire situation.

It was bizarre, really, to think that Hermione had thought she had seen a different side to Malfoy. Of course it had been different – he had been a  _dragon_.

But it didn't stop her from returning to the meadow every day after her work was done, or visiting his limestone cliffs when the sunset was particularly breathtaking.

She wondered whether the injury to his wing had transferred over to his human body – wondered how he was settling back into his work as an Auror. And when the melancholy truly swept through her from the inside, she wondered if she would ever see him again.

Twice, she had composed letters to Dean asking about him, but had thrown them into the fire.

He had left without saying goodbye, and hadn't made any attempt to contact her since. Clearly, there had been nothing between them but for a handful of adventures in the sanctuary.

She knew better, of course. She was here in Romania, and he was in England. He had made her teenage years a nightmare. A few weeks together deep in the wild expanse of the sanctuary had no business negating all of that.

But she couldn't quite forget the way he had pulled her against him during the storm to keep her warm. The way his grey eyes had gazed up at her, shining with amusement. The way he had chuckled when he pushed her into the water – and how he had offered her a flower in apology.

Blinking, Hermione arranged herself onto the large, flat rock beside the pond. Her eyes stung but there must have been something in the air.

She settled in for another evening in the meadow – the air was warm, fluffy, comical clouds drifting through a bright blue sky – but her mind was heavy with confusion and unfulfilled hopes.

She caught a flicker of movement in her peripheral vision and glanced over – then did a double-take.

Malfoy settled himself on the rock beside her, stretching his long legs out so his heels landed in the grass, his hands flat behind him.

Hermione stared and found it odd to see him as a human. She opened her mouth to say something but closed it again, her brow knitted.

He turned his gaze on her – his eyes were the same shade of grey she had grown so used to – and pressed his lips together. Finally he released a long breath.

"Granger."

"Malfoy."

"I had a feeling I'd find you here." He glanced sidelong at her, his tone soft.

Hermione nodded, her heart racing in her chest.

Malfoy's brows flickered, his expression calculating. "I can go, if I'm intruding."

She breathed, "You can stay."

"I didn't know whether you'd want to see me," he shrugged. He glanced at her, shifting slightly on the rock. "I've been buried in work wrapping up the case."

"Of course," Hermione hastened to say. She glanced at him, meeting his gaze for a moment before looking away. "I didn't think – after you left –"

"I wanted to wait and say goodbye to you." His expression was unreadable when Hermione looked at him again. "But I didn't know if…" he trailed off, his eyes fixed on the patch of sandy clay beside the pond. Hermione hadn't been able to bring herself to brush away their initials. "If we were only spending time together when I was a dragon because you felt badly for me."

"No," Hermione shook her head. "I wanted to come see you, in London. But I didn't know, now that you've been released..."

"Well," Malfoy began, his words delicate. His blond hair fell in his face, and it shimmered with silver in the brightness of the sun. "I didn't know either, but I'd like to know."

His words were ambiguous, but the way his eyes roved her face caused a flush to rise in Hermione's cheeks.

A breath caught in her throat. "I'm glad you've been freed, and that The Warbler's been caught."

"So am I," he said with a quiet laugh, one corner of his mouth tweaking up into a crooked grin. "You don't even know how long that maniac drove us spare."

Despite the nerves fluttering in her stomach Hermione laughed, turning to face him; her eyes landed on the sharp curve of his jaw as his face grew serious.

"Merlin, Granger, there were so many things I wanted to say to you when I couldn't." Malfoy released a heavy breath, his shoulders sinking. "Like I'm  _bloody_  sorry, for one."

"I knew that one," Hermione said, picking at the grass beside the rock. "I didn't need to hear you say it."

"And thanks – for spending so much time with me," he said, glancing away again. "For putting up with me, when you didn't have to."

"It was nice," she said, her voice soft. "Flying, and exploring with you."

Malfoy's lips quirked into a tight smile. "And I know I have  _no_  right to ask this of you – but I was hoping you might be willing to spend more time with me."

Hermione released a breath in a sharp huff, glancing at him. Her heart beat against her chest, and she felt a twist of excitement in her stomach.

His hand lay on the rock between them, and Hermione trailed her fingertips across the back of it.

She said, "I have a lot of free time, as you well know."

Malfoy twisted his hand, his fingers slipping between hers. His chin dropped as he gazed at her. "Friday evening."

"I'm all yours," she breathed, shifting closer on the rock, pulling their joined hands into her lap.

His throat bobbed, and he pulled his lower lip between his teeth. "Good. Because I want to watch the sunset with you as a human, Granger."

Her gaze landed on the sand where their initials were etched, and he followed her stare, his grey eyes fixed on the carved letters. His thumb grazed the back of her hand.

"Dragon Draco figured out a few things Human Draco never allowed himself to," he said quietly. "He spent a lot of time out here on his own, after all. He had a lot of time to think."

"Human Hermione grew pretty fond of Dragon Draco," she whispered in return.

Malfoy smirked, his eyes sparkling. "Human Draco hopes Human Hermione grows fond of him, too."

Hermione swallowed at his proximity, taking in his sharp features. She hadn't quite realized how attractive he was; she hadn't given herself a chance to even consider the thought.

She gave him a tight smile. "I'm sure she will."

The warm glow of the sun threw into sharp relief the slow grin that spread across his features. Malfoy tugged her closer by her hand – still trapped within his – and he slung his other arm around her back, his grey eyes fixing once more on the brilliant horizon.

"Who knew?" he murmured beneath his breath, his voice soft.

Hermione's gaze drifted across the sharp planes of his face, still caught off guard to see him in his human form. She had never been this close to him.

"Sometimes," she said, her voice hushed, "the best things happen when we aren't expecting them."

His grey eyes sparkled as he turned to face her again, catching his bottom lip between his teeth as he smiled. "Absolutely true." He met her gaze with a teasing warmth. "One might go so far as to call you brilliant."

Hermione smiled at him, something within her sparkling with a thrill of hopefulness.

Malfoy lifted a hand, his fingers tracing the curve of her jaw. He tugged on a loose curl and his eyes met hers a second before he leaned in, pressing his lips to hers.

Her heart racing, Hermione kissed him back, dropping a hand to land on his shoulder. His lips were soft, tentative but firm, and she found herself breathless when he drew away, hovering close enough that his breath danced across her lips.

A corner of his mouth quirked up when she smiled. Those grey eyes, which she had become so accustomed to seeking out, met hers.

A sharp breath escaped her lips at the promise she found within them.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of an anonymous fest. Reveals of authors and artists will be posted on 1st of November. Follow us on [TUMBLR](https://hp-creatures.tumblr.com/).


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